The story of a Quisquellana

Thursday

May 10, 2007 at 12:01 AMMay 10, 2007 at 10:18 AM

I was just turning fourteen years old when my biggest nightmare happened. I come from the Dominican Republic, the island of the Merengue and music, where everywhere you go, you can only listen to music and feel the warmth of the people. I never had a dad beside me or with me. My step-dad was the person I loved as a dad because he was there since I was a little girl. I grew up in high-class society where I

Stephanie Tillman

I was just turning fourteen years old when my biggest nightmare happened. I come from the Dominican Republic, the island of the Merengue and music, where everywhere you go, you can only listen to music and feel the warmth of the people. I never had a dad beside me or with me. My step-dad was the person I loved as a dad because he was there since I was a little girl. I grew up in high-class society where I was known by everyone. I went to the most expensive American school; I’ve been almost around the whole world and everything I wanted, I had it. I knew what it meant to be poor, but never knew what it was like until I came to this country.

I remember my mom and stepfather fighting everyday and seeing my mom crying in her room. Summer came and I was out of school already. "We are going to Boston for vacation"; that’s what my mom told me. She told me to pack everything I could and what was necessary as well. Then she told me we might move but it wasn’t sure. She was going to divorce my step-dad, but the problem was that my mom didn’t have the income to support my little sister and me, as the person with all the money was my step-dad. My mom thought that the best idea was to move to the United States, so I could continue going to an English school and have a nice simple life.

I remember crying in the airplane, and then I remember crying everyday. I didn’t like this country because the people were cold, and I didn’t know Latinos were considered minorities. I didn’t like it because girls at 14 years old, my age, were already having sex and making around with different guys. "Too much liberty," that’s what my mom said, "but you have to be different." Her words I follow. Everywhere I go, I standout because of my good manners and mind. At school I used to be called the plastic girl because I was too polite and dressed too pretty.

I never knew my mom deeply until I moved here because now we are always together, struggling together, doing everything together. In the Dominican Republic, my mom and I weren’t that tight. I used to do my things and she used to do hers but here everything changed. I wanted to go back to my country, but I so far I have not seen the day. I fell into a depression. I was always crying, not eating, not wanting to go out, not wanting to do anything but just stay in my room and cry. My mom talked to me and the way I recuperated was finding the Lord. "God is all you need to survive, Stephanie," said my mom.

One of the hardest things for me was to do house chores since I didn’t know how to do anything because in Dominican Republic we had people to do everything for us. In the US, I had to wash the dishes everyday. I hated it. My hands were dry and I developed a rash because my skin wasn’t used to that everyday task. I had to clean my room, and clean the bathroom and living room. This was so hard for me because I wasn’t used to it, and I got so tired. I remember going to the laundry with my aunt to wash everyone’s clothes with a little bag on my back and rolling a big bag walking in the street because we didn’t have a car. We don’t have laundries in Dominican Republic and for me this was embarrassing. But what did I know about embarrassment at that time. I was a rich girl who had just started living a lower income life. It was hard when I wanted and needed so many things but I could not get them because my mom had no money. It was hard to go to that mall and not be able to buy what I wanted, knowing that before wasn’t like that.

The apartment where we were staying was so small that we could barely fit in there. I didn’t have my own room; I had to share it with my little sister, mom, my aunt and her daughter. I was still a happy girl with a big smile everyday that everyone used to admire because I never looked sad.

Having friends wasn’t that hard. I’ve always been very sociable and I make friends right away. It was hard at the beginning because girls were always talking about sex and were not as polite and didn’t have the same education as I had at that time. I always felt like I didn’t fit in but after two month everything changed. I learned their ways and they learned mine. Guys tried to get with me but I said yes to no one because I was scared. My mom didn’t trust anyone because of the fact that here there’s more liberty. You see young people smoking, selling drugs, fighting, killing and having sex. So my mom always protected me from that. That’s why I didn’t have my first boyfriend until I was 16 years old but because I decided that way, and my mom always gave me the right to have a boyfriend.

My grandma was always worried that something could happen to me in this country or that I might lose my morals and principles. Everything they taught me is still in me so many people say I don’t look Dominican or act like one, but that is because they don’t know that all Dominicans are not the same. My grandpa said I’m too Americanized and that I only listen to that hip-hop and rap. He even said I don’t like to eat my food that I only like to eat that junk that would get me fat. But in me I don’t feel that way. I feel Dominican and nothing else. My family makes fun of me because I don’t speak my Spanish well, and I no longer know many words. Also, when I talk Spanish fast, my tongue gets tangled, more than when I can speak in English. For everyone here my Spanish is perfect and fluent.

However, saying and believing what people are saying about me is not going to help me at all. I am just going to be me everywhere I go and keep my head up. Everywhere I go, I am still going to be a Dominican not an American.